


Coming of Age Ballads

by FoolishLoveStandStill



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Akashi being Akashi, Bromance, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Gen, M/M, Sexual realisation, gay crushes, nash is an asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 15:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16895517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoolishLoveStandStill/pseuds/FoolishLoveStandStill
Summary: America is the new love-nest millennials flock to, is what Nash comes to understand. Or in which Akashi Seijuurou moves to Cambridge for college, encounters Nash Gold Jr. and proceeds to tell him what it means to have a Dick.





	Coming of Age Ballads

There’s a hole in the wall.

No seriously, there’s a hole in the wall.

Akashi Seijuurou turns to the landlord, a plump, oily man with too much facial hair that doesn’t just end at his _face_ , and tells him pleasantly in his primp and posh English, “landlord-san, there’s a hole in the wall.”

The landlord -- who was in the middle of explaining the intricacies of the contract (which really only consists of: _you pay me? We’re good pal, you don’t? I hope you haven’t sold off that spare kidney yet -- or that kid of yours_ ) -- barely startles at his observation.

“Oh that? Don’t mind that lil’ old thing--” said ‘lil’ old thing’ was a hole about half his height and double his shoulder span, “--last couple had some rough nights.” The man goes back to skipping the pages containing the shifty terms and conditions, “and stop calling me ‘san’. I don’t know anyone named ‘san’. My name is Sam.”

Akashi ignores the last remark and chooses to pursue his current (well-hidden) confusion. “And you rent this flat out to people? Without doing anything?”

“Hah!” He spits, “Doing anything to what? You should be glad I’m not charging extra for the additional furnishing not stated in the contract!”

“The hole...is extra furnishing.”

“Exactly! Looks like not all Japanese people are dumbasses after all, even though none of you can pronounce my name.”

“I promise I’m adept at pronouncing English names.” His serene deposition never falters, “it’s just that ‘san’ is a term of respect in my cul--”

“And look! The wall is artistically caved in a natural way -- it just gives the place the vibrancy it needs don’t you think?!” The landlord cuts him off and he feels ire building up -- internally, of course.

“...how did you say the hole was made again?” 

“...” Sam ignores the question completely, “you’re one of those MIT brats ain’t ya?! Bunch of artists there--”

“Actually it’s an abbreviation for the Massachusetts School of Technology.”

The landlord stares blankly at him.

“Don’t interrupt me, brat. Since you’re going to an art school, you _obviously_ need a creative and artsy environment right? That’s why I should be charging you for that hole. But I’m not. Because I’m a _generous_  person, so don’t you go off mouthing off at me, _boy_.”

“...” Seijuurou is honestly speechless. Perhaps, if it was a pitiful marketing scheme, he would be understanding, after all; publicising and marketing these run-down flat cannot be an easy feat and any lesser man would have caved in under the pressure of doing so. But in front of him stands a guy who _genuinely_ believes that he can get away with passing off a privacy-invading, undesirable, ugly, big _hole in the wall_ as something appealing.

Who genuinely believes that MIT is a school renowned for students with _artistic abilities_.

Who genuinely believes that he can appeal Akashi Seijuurou with said hole.

“Okay,” he says, “where do I sign?”

At this moment he thinks that Sam the landlord looks more like a shark than any real estate agent he has ever had the pleasure of knowing -- and his father owns a lot of real estate agencies.

“ _Right here, sir_.” He hands the contract over, “please hurry, I’m in a rush for an appointment.” Which just isn’t true, but Seijuurou is honestly too jet-lagged, too hungry, too tired, and too worn out to deal with the landlords demeaning personality anymore, so he just picks up the pen, and sighs.

+

Before the landlord takes his leaves, Akashi speaks up. “Landlord-san--”

“Sam. Landlord Sam.”

“Landlord- _san._ ”

Landlord-san growls.

“I just want to inquire about my neighbour on the other side of the hole.”

“Oh him?” He grips the signed contract haughtily by his side, a stark reminder that he can say whatever he wants to now, “he’s an asshole, but don’t worry; he’s away for the most part.”

“I see. Then have a nice day, Landlord-san. I _do_ hope that you make it on time for your appointment at _2 AM in the morning_.” He says placatingly.

The door slams in his smiling countenance.

+

After the landlord takes his leave, Seijuurou takes another look at the room, for the first time, not getting distracted by the wall. And he notices just how _shitty_ the room is.

It’s small; cramped with a square living room that doubles as a bed and a separate chamber acting as the toilet cubicle, which barely has enough space to spread his arms out. The toilet is covered in green _things_ that Seijuurou just doesn’t want to describe and he almost, _almost_ , cringes at the thought of cleaning it up. He decides to just replace the whole thing. He was born into money for a reason and that reason is _so that he doesn’t have to deal with disgusting toilet germs_.

The rest of the shower is relatively well maintained, despite the scratch marks on the mirrors and the moss growing off the showerhead. Seijuurou is just glad that he’s in America and not in somewhere like, say, Malaysia. Here, at least the landlord can’t downgrade his toilet to a squat toilet.

The living room isn’t much better -- or worse.

There’s a ratty old couch that clashes with the paint, and the decor, and the giant-hole-in-the-wall and is probably the ugliest thing Seijuurou has ever laid his eyes on (and Seijuurou had to stare at Haizaki’s face 5 days a week for a whole year) but is surprisingly the most comfortable thing he has ever sat on.

The couch is definitely more comfortable than the bed. Which is an even more ratty mattress tossed to the side, looking yellow with age and white with suspicious stains that really _do not_ sit well with him. The air is thick and dank with the foul-smelling velvet curtains blocking all moonlight and air from the outside world and there's only a ratty lightbulb hanging uncertainly from the ceiling. He adds _new lightbulb_ to his list of things to buy, which currently includes:

 

 _toilet (_ _hopefully those machine ones from back home_ _)_

_bed (at least 10-inch thick mattress)_

_bedsheets (thread count 1500 minimum)_

_Curtains (softer, lighter)_

_Ceiling light (something not hanging on for its life)_

_Ceiling fan (it’s hot)_

_Kotatsu (i miss home)_

_The whole building_

 

Perhaps the last one is an overkill, but then he thinks back to the unsavoury landlord and vows to buy up the whole plot of land one day. But it isn’t time for that, and by ‘isn’t time’ he means it’s 2.30 in the morning, so he leaves the plotting for morning and collapses onto the couch affectionately named Haizaki.

Not before snapping a picture of his new living arrangements and sending it to his father, of course.

**"Gah?! Juurou!! I gave you my credit cards for a reason!!!"**

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is kinda me testing the waters, so please bear with, also reviews are greatly appreciated, so is criticism haha.  
> Nash is appearing in the next chapter lads.


End file.
